The Memiors of Harley
by ashleeryan
Summary: The story of the infamous Harley Quinn. How she came to be Joker's best friend and lover. How she went from your "average" crazy girl to insane killer/villian.
1. Intro

Intro:  
This is the personal memior of the infamous Harley Quinn. How do I know this is "personal" or "accurate?", you may be asking. Because I am Harley. This is my story, well no. In actuality this is a memior of Jack. How he changed me, trained me, accepted me, and most of all, understood me. How my "illness" and his "persona" mixed. Believe what I tell you, or don't. It doesn't really make a difference, unless you listen.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One:  
Well I suppose I should start with the "illness". Or as my many doctors and psychyatrists (a.k.a.-conformists) call it, "all in her head". See, I have this problem were I find just about everything funny. Yes, this may sound great, but actually, it can cause a lot of problems. For example, say you're sitting in on an execution and you begin to laugh hysterically. Compleatly and utterly inapropriate right?  
Too most "normal" people, yes very. But to me, that man having three-thousand volts of electricity sent through his body is hilarious. And no,  
I don't just find horror and pain humorous. I'm not that sadistic. I also find little things funny. I see a child run and trip, hysterical.  
A teacher talking about global warming, I just about choke from giggling so hard. Well, those weren't very good examples to support the fact that I'm not very sadistic. Oh well, I suppose I do find tense situations and suffering funny. But what can I do about it? A person can not help what's humorous to them.  
When I was seven years old my mother could handle me no longer. So she simply dropped me off at, Meyer's Insane Asyllum with a note that briefly explained my "disorder" and drove off, leaving nothing but a small cloud of dust behind her. I remember watching her and cracking up. After about five minutes of giggles I began looking around. The walls of the Asyllum were an off-white color. All the doors and window frames were painted a similar but darker shade of white. There was no color anywhere on the building. Bored and unappealed I sat down on the dead grass below me. I just stayed there, watching the clouds pass by, a huge grin across my face.  
When it started to get dark I figured I should go give someone the letter from my mother. As I started skipping up the front steps of the asyllum's stoop a man opened the front door. He was very stout and had wiry gray hair. He looked careless and tired as he scanned me up and down with his gigantic eyes. I snorted and slightly giggled. "This is-" I extended my right arm, note in hand, "for you." I tried hard not to lose it. The man simply stared at me for what seemed like hours. He took the paper from me.  
"Yes, yes, I see," he mumbled as he read my mothers crooked hand writing, "...and your name" I Just sttod there watching him. It took me a good three minutes bfore I realized he was adressing me.  
"Oh, it's Harlen Quincy." I said with perfect enunciation.  
"What an odd name." he replied with no trace of emotion. I cleared my throat before I spoke again.  
"Maybe to you it is"  
"hmmm." We looked at eachother for quite some time before he spoke again. "follow me." was all he could say. Chuckling to myself, I quietly followed. This was my new start, my new life. Where everything would begin, at Meyer's home for the whack jobs. 


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two:

I was raised in the asyllum by the same man who directed me to my incredibly stuff room at the age of seven. This man was also my pyschyatrist, doctor, and suppossed "mentor". He is the only person I can find no humor in. Absolutly none. HIs name is unknown to me, (and of course he will not tell me), so I just called him Owl. My reasoning is because, the man looks like and owl. His eyes are huge. They bulge out of his face as if he's been squeezed too hard or been electrocuted. (which would be funny if it were not Owl) As you can probably tell already, I hated Owl. His main goal for me was to make me "normal", a task the both of us knew to be impossible. Because of Owl's relentlessness to "fixing" me, I had to go to twice a week therepy sessions on Tuesdays and Thursdays. It was a Tuesday, which was a bit of a disappointment because I was in a giggly mood. Earlier that day I had witnessed an elderly woman fall and break her ankle. As soon as I walked into Owl's office that day, my laughter disapeared. SOmething was off, different. It sent an uneasy chill up my back. "Hello Harlen" I violently turned my body around to face him, "how are you?" he asked. Instead of responding I glared. "not very good I see." he mumbled in comleate monotone.  
This was one of the main reasons I despised Owl. He had no emotion. He said and did everything as a robot would. I've never heard one little trace of emotion in his voice, nor on his face. To me this man was disturbed, devestatingly hopeless.  
"Here Harlen, try this candy, it's new and I beilieve you'll enjoy it." Owl actually wanted to bribe me. This sent a sudden flare of anger throughout my body. So instead of taking on of Owl's treats I smacked them right out of his hand. Seeing the Candies spilt on the floor made me giggle slightly. I looked up to see if I got any reaction out of him. Nothing.  
This made me instantly angry again. "Why don't you ever smile?!" I half-screamed half-asked, " Why are you always so serious?" At this point my face was inches from his. Still no reaction. My eyes narrowed as a jumped back. "SMILE!" I demanded, "DO IT! DO SOMETHING!" Owl did nothing but blink. Now I was livid. "What the hell is wrong with you?" I began stomping about the room kicking anything in my path. When I reached Owl's book shelf I began grabbing books out and throwing them. The first book went staright through one of the room's glass windows. This sent a sudden jolt of humor in me.  
Now everything was funny again. As I grabbed another book titled "Disorders and You" and threw it across the room I began laughing meniacally. Ruuning over so that I was face to face with Owl I laughed. "See? Isn't it funny? LAUGH!" He didn't respond. Running backwards, away from Owl I made my way to his desk. On it rested a glass sphere that I picked up. I threw it across the room where it hit a globe. The globe akwardly teetered back and forth, as if deciding to fall or not. When it finally made it's choice to crash I began jumping up and down with excitement. The globe cracked into four equal peices. I began laughing even harder. I could not stop laughing. MY lungs and diaphragm were aching but my laughter was not going anywhere.  
"I think our session is over for today," Owl said over my laughter,"I believe we have made a break through"  
"Oh o-okay, bu-buh bye then." I barley managed the words between laughs.  
As I was walked back to my room by one of the asyllum's nurses I thought to myself. Owl's words echoed in my head "I beleive we have made a break though." As this repeated over and over again I became angry. What break through? What had been accomplished? I was for once so angry and confused I could not laugh. The nurse opened my rooms door and watched me carefully as I walked inside. When I sat down on my bed she smiled slightly, then closed the door. I listened for the expected "click-clicks" of my door locks. I looked around my room. It really was plain and unexciting. Tired and angry I lay my head down on my pillow. When I did this I heard a faint crinkling noise. I sat up again, now curious, and looked at my pillow.  
It looked the same as always, white and boring. Figuring I was just hearing things I lay my head back down. Again I heard the same faint crinkle. Sitting up quickly I examined the full length of my pillow. Just as I was about to lay down once more I noticed a small beige triangle poking out from the bottom of the case. Curious I pulled at it until an entire envelop was in veiw. On the front its read, "Dear Harlen."


End file.
